Ricochet
by Alex Foster
Summary: Sandra McBride, lowly waitress in the Burnt Toast Diner, is paid a visit one night by a former agent with an offer. Set in the Explosion Future storyline from season one. Claire/Elle.


Title: Ricochet

Author: Alex Foster

Category: General

Word Count: 815

Rating: PG

Summary: Sandra McBride, lowly waitress in the Burnt Toast Diner, gets paid a visit one night by a former agent with an offer. Set in the Explosion Future storyline from season one. Claire/Elle.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by NBC. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: So originally this was a plot idea I was going to give to Harukafairbanks to help with her writer's block, but I kinda sorta ended up writing it before I could tell her about it. _Sorry_! I'll make it up to you with some others. Then I was going to enter this for Slashthedrabble's weekly challenge but the word count ended up too high. So instead of cutting it down I decided to just post it as a regular old ficlet. This is set in the Explosion Future storyline because I've been in the mood to explore more of Heroes many canon AUs. Thanks for reading.

...

_It is normal to give away a little of one's life in order not to lose it all._  
Albert Camus

...

When Claire heard the bells over the door jingle she assumed it was Andy. It was late, her turn to close up the diner, and it was like him to come over to see her safely home.

She called to him, telling him to wait while she finished in the kitchen.

"Oh, take your time," a female voice answered, "Cheerleader."

Clare looked up in surprise, the tray of dirty dishes forgotten. She hurried back into the main dinning room. Her father was the first worry. Had Homeland Security gotten to him and one of his best agents come to warn her?

The thought that Director Parkman was on his way and she was in danger was a distance second in her mind.

The former Company agent stood waiting for her at the counter, dressed neck to toe in black. Blonde hair stood out in sharp contrast against her dark blazer.

"Elle."

A blue eyed gaze flicked to the nametag on Claire's uniform. "Sandra."

"My father, is he…?"

"Nah." Elle put her knee on a stool and swung herself closer to the countertop. "Noah will outlive us all—well almost all."

In spite of herself, Claire relaxed. Elle was an agent from her father's underground railroad, a connection to a past Claire could not have any part of. Noah had made it clear that her cover was solid and to preserve it she couldn't chance any contact with specials.

"Then why?"

Elle turned a menu over in her hands. "Heard you make the best grilled cheese this side of Austin."

"Elle…"

"Come now, Cheerleader, you _know_ I tip well for good servicing." She tapped a corner of the menu against her lips.

Claire rolled her eyes and looked away to the darkened dining area, feeling her face heat slightly. "You didn't come all this way for that."

Elle held the pose for a moment before tossing the menu away. "No, I didn't. An old friend made a job offer in London—don't ask me how he survived the explosion—and I'm going. The heat on Noah's little movement is getting too hot for me."

Claire nodded and waited for her to continue. She and Elle had parted ways back in DC when Noah secured her new identity of Sandra McBride. Save for a couple of notes passed through channels there hadn't been any communication.

"It's all set up," Elle said. "And I bought two seats on the plane and plenty of Valium to get me through the flight."

Claire gave her a look. "I can't leave—I have a life here."

"Oh _please_." Elle waved a hand indicating the Burnt Toast Diner. "Sandra with her cheap nail polish, Wal-Mart dresses, and tennis shoes isn't you; she's a costume to wear. I know what you really are, Cheerleader." Lightning jumped from her fingers and slammed into Claire's hand with enough force to cut down to the bone.

Claire winced out of habit more than any real pain. She was used to feigning discomfort after hours on her feet or when standing too close to the hot grill. As she and Elle watched the burns quickly mended and faded away until clear skin remained. It had been a long time since she'd had any sort of injury, self-inflicted or otherwise.

She started to pull back but Elle caught her wrist in a tight grip. A low charge went up her arm and pooled just beneath her stomach. She could feel one ability talking to the other.

"You are better than every sweaty truck driver that comes in here and calls you 'baby', tries to look up your skirt, and leaves a ten cent tip."

Reluctantly, Claire pulled her hand back. "I know. But I have people here that care about me."

"Andy." Elle gave a false singsong at the name.

"He's a good man."

"Vanilla," she said as though it was a curse.

Claire shrugged. "I want to be normal—and this is normal. _He's_ normal."

Elle seemed to think about that for a moment, as though trying to come up with a new argument that would sway her. "You'll get bored eventually."

It'd be a lie to say that hadn't occurred to her. Or that no matter how many hot greasy days passed in the diner, Sandra McBride never got any older. By the look in her eyes, Elle understood that too. Unspoken was the fact Andy never would.

Elle reached into her blazer and pulled out a plane ticket. "Flight leaves at eight tomorrow morning," she said, leaving it on the counter. "You are welcome to join me."

The agent turned and started to walk away.

"I won't be there," Claire told her. "It's not time for me to leave here yet."

Elle didn't slow or look back. "I know. But I will be waiting when you are ready."

The bells jingled again on her way out.

**End**


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